The Fire of the Fox
by Andrivette
Summary: A series of Koto headcanons/drabbles.
1. Determination

Determination.

If anything could be said about her, that was it — complete determination to get where she wanted, to be a part of what she loved.

Ever since she was a kit, she was fascinated by it all: the power struggle, the glory, the adrenaline when blood went flying. She was never really a fighter herself, but she adored the scent of battle, the way lives clashed, the permanent effect they had on all who had the chance to observe or take part; the smell of smoke and blood, the sound of clashing metal — it was a show, but far more real.

She hadn't the talent for it, but she had the same spirit, and she would do anything to be part of it.

She had her own struggle: scathing personalities, perverts, the blatant lack of respect for a female and _especially_ a female in this business.

Demons and humans were both terrible at heart. She knew it firsthand.

But that was the beauty of fights — it didn't matter what you thought, everything was physical. It could make the sick feeling in her throat after the next harassment disappear in an instant — just that blood and sweat and raw power, exploding like beautiful fireworks.

If she kept her eyes focused on it, it would leave everything else shrinking away in the dark.


	2. Terminal

The sounds of shuffling feet, rolling bags, and monotone voices on the intercom created a lazy cadence — so very different than the excitement her days usually led her through. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was because she saw no city lights sparkling against the starless night outside the window just yards away from her seat, but she felt quieted.

Just a couple years ago, Koto couldn't have imagined the life she was living now — being recognized by humans as well as demons, a famous face and voice. It was stressful sometimes, as high-maintenance life was bound to be.

How had she gotten here? It seemed like just yesterday, all she was doing was riding the thrill that watching fights gave her, admiring her first battles, refereeing her first match. Now she was an icon, and it wasn't just because of the battles. She was good at her job, she knew that — few people paid as much attention to the beauty of fights as she did. But maybe that was the problem.

She wanted to believe she was simply doing a nice girl a favor when she helped Juri get promoted from a simple cocktail waitress to referee girl alongside herself, but she knew deep down that wasn't the whole truth. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't seen her family since she had left the Makai — maybe it was the fact that she had never been more alone in her life, and as much as she tried to keep her head up, she was tired of having nowhere to look but inward or far, far away.

She certainly wasn't alone physically anymore, and she never had to be if she didn't really want to. She had plenty of money, and she could practically get whatever she wanted. Anything material. Well, it all seemed material. But she could be happy with that. She had what she needed. She had finally made it somewhere.

So why did she feel so lost?

"Koto. Koto!"

She jumped a little, uttering a quick "Oh" before snatching up her bags and following Juri and Ruka to the boarding area.


	3. Dad

"You see that, Koto?"

"I did, Daddy!"

He lifted her in his sweaty arms, and she nuzzled his face affectionately.

"Damn," her father's sparring buddy panted from his doubled-over position yards away, "it still gets me how someone so short can pack such a wallop."

"'Cuz my dad is the strongest man ever!" the little kit piped. "Daddy, when are you gonna fight again?"

He snorted. "This isn't enough for you, you little fiend?"

She shook her head emphatically. "I like it when you fight for _real_!"

"Your daughter's a bloodthirsty thing, isn't she?" The two adults laughed. "Maybe one day she'll end up kicking my ass, too."

"Anyone can kick your ass!" she cried.

"Oh yeah? Bring it on, little girl!"

She squirmed out of her father's arms, rushing over to his friend and kicking him as hard as she could in the shin.

"Aaaaagghhh!" he screeched in mock-pain, collapsing to the ground. "I'm dying!"

Her father's laughter and exclamation of approval only encouraged her, as it always would.

* * *

><p>It was her older brother, Taro, that broke the news, and now he held their weeping mother. Her four little sisters and brother were wailing, too, and now it was only he and Koto that remained silent, the fog of disbelief and the need for normalcy smothering them both.<p>

Somehow, they'd have to find a way to live without him.

* * *

><p>"The human world?"<p>

"Yeah," she affirmed. "You know, it's secluded. Perfect place for regulated face-beatings, I guess."

Taro frowned at her. "Don't get in trouble."

Koto laughed. "That's like telling me not to breathe."

"I know," he said, grimacing. "When will you come back?"

Her shoulders lifted.

"Ugh, you're just like Dad."

She laughed again, leaning over and nipping at his cheek. "Thanks, Ro-ro."

"I really hate that name."

"I know."


	4. Forever

She had met him while touring around with Juri and Ruka — at first he was nothing more than another cute boy to fill the loneliness, but as days went by, the two of them spent more and more time together. She didn't know why, really — perhaps because he was the first guy that had shown any interest in sticking around for more than a day, full of desire to show her his city and share more personal things than Koto was used to anyone sharing with her.

It was when he started talking about staying with her, giving up what he had to be with her, that she began to feel uncomfortable.

It was an amazing thought, but one she had never prepared for. Especially not with a human. Their lives ended in a blink, it felt like, and there was no point expecting a meaningful relationship to arise from something that would end just as quickly and far more painfully than it had started. And she … Well, she had never dedicated herself to anyone. Maybe deep down she wanted to, but a large part of her didn't even know where to start. The thought was more painful than comforting — expecting one singular person to give her what she wanted, to care about what she cared about, to bear with who she really was at all. To risk exposing herself to someone like that. There was nothing so wonderful about her that she would want someone to give up everything for her.

She didn't tell him when they'd be leaving — he didn't get to hear her say goodbye. Maybe it was better that way. It would be like she was never there at all.

Forever was a silly concept, anyway.


	5. Lifeless

Hadn't she hung it up enough times? It should have stopped giving her that seizing feeling in her chest, that little breath of ice down her spine as if memories were literally washing over her.

Taro was big enough to wear it now, but that didn't make it any less her father's shirt. It was the tiniest fraction of something he'd left behind, something that none of them could really bring up without the awkward, empty feeling.

It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to with her mother. She was a rather subdued woman — Koto supposed it was that aspect of her that made her overprotective of her first child, her first son, and why Taro had been less eager to explore his wild nature. But Koto was the second child, a daughter, and inherently less valuable. But to her father, she had all the value in the world. While their mother stayed home babying Taro, Koto would be out roaming with their father, learning how to laugh at blood and pioneering a straightforward attitude that would condemn her by the time he was in his grave.

And now, coupling the most boring of tasks — laundry — with memories of her father and what he stood for seemed entirely wrong. She hated these menial chores, taking orders. She craved action, excitement. This wasn't what she had dreamed her life would be like. It wasn't what she wanted at all.

She had felt so very lifeless since he'd gone.


	6. Foxy

Foxy, kitty, fluffy — she'd heard them all before, and she knew she'd hear them a hundred times more, in the form of compliments and insults alike. She couldn't really feel surprised. Her features could appeal to many — not too human, but not all that animal, either.

Everyone had defining features, and among demons they meant a lot. If someone could tell what you were made up of, they could tell right off the bat what your inherent talents were, what kind of threat you might be, or, alternatively, what kind of interest they might have in you. The more human you looked, the more dangerous, really — it made you more unpredictable. Everyone was always naturally suspicious and simultaneously interested in animalistic demons like herself — they bridged the gap between humanoid and not, and especially for someone like Koto with an inherent innocence that accompanied her species, the interest could be carried into harmless desire or escalate into bloody lust.

She was always proud of what she was, but it did scare her at times.


	7. Scars

Fists flying around her had always filled her with excitement, with adrenaline, and she usually managed to avoid trouble when things got sticky — she didn't have the reflexes she did for no reason. After all, even if she wasn't a fighter, she still had some pretty impressive acrobatics, and they had saved her from getting burned when she got too close to the heat of the battles she refereed.

But still, she should have expected it — after all, her job wasn't guaranteed safe. Perhaps she was still naïve, only two years into her job, or maybe she was just arrogant and reckless.

The two fighters she was announcing in were nothing particularly special, or so she thought — but after some close-quarters blows, the taller guy suddenly changed tactics and charged an attack that neither his opponent nor Koto had expected, his energy exploding in a dramatic array of color that blinded her. For a moment, she couldn't hear anything, then she realized it was because the sound of her own scream was drowning out everything else, and by the time her vision returned to her, she had somehow ended up on her back outside the ring, her stomach and legs covered in blood and her body surrounded by rocky debris. She had to be replaced for a week while the gashes mended, and she hated every moment of her down time — and her pride hated the jagged scars that refused to go away.

But, as time went on, she adjusted to the idea of those scars. They were her own battle scars — proof of her dedication to the thing she loved. She'd never let the idea of gaining some scars get in the way of her job, of throwing herself back into the ring and letting everyone know just how far she would go.

However, she wasn't the only referee girl that would be putting herself into danger, and the others would more than likely be less adjusted to the potential injury. She developed her ribbon technique for that reason. Juri was scared, unaware of the very real danger, and Koto felt partially responsible for her potential self-sacrifice — she had predicted the problem before it even occurred, and she was ready to rescue her co-worker and friend when the time came.

She would never let another ref girl put herself in harm's way the way she had.


	8. Vanity

She really hated envy, but she couldn't help it — every single person that got a chance to stare in a mirror at themselves found something to dislike, and Koto was no exception. Comparisons made people unhappy, but it was so natural to do, so easy to get caught up in how beautiful _she_ was and how _she_ had that.

Out of the three of them, Koto looked the youngest, the most innocent, and she couldn't stand it. She would wonder how guys could stand sleeping with her. Didn't she just look like a child to them? Juri was _gorgeous_ and Ruka was just plain _hot_ and Koto — well …

She was _cute_.

More than anything, Koto hated being cute.

She took advantage of it whenever she could, of course — that was the only benefit of being cute. But she didn't want to be cute. She wanted to be sexy, too. She wanted to be seen as a woman, because she _was_ one, even if she didn't look like it quite like the other two did. "Foxy" was the closest thing to sexy she was ever called, and it was probably her favorite word because of it. It made her feel desired — desir_able_.

So she wasn't a long-legged, curvy bombshell like Ruka — she didn't have that rich, beautiful skin or the pouty lips like Juri — but she was at least a _fox_, damn it, and that counted for something.

Right?


	9. Sexuality

She had thought about it. When she wasn't busy comparing herself to the other two, when she was relaxed, she felt somehow safe. It was nice to be in the company of other girls. She couldn't let her guard down around guys — she was busy trying to impress them, to be attractive. During those times she couldn't stand the other two for being so gorgeous. But other times — when they were alone — she liked her friends. She could even admire their beauty instead of being jealous of it.

Koto had thought most about it when the three of them were unwinding in a hotel after a long day of shopping — a girl's day out — and sat around drinking a little and chatting. Juri was watching TV and Ruka was playing with new makeup and talking about something — Koto was pretending to be attentive, but she was bored, truthfully, just sipping on another screwdriver and zoning out. She kept staring at the both of them, but they were so focused on what they were doing that they didn't notice. Ruka kept making faces at herself and turning her head this way and that — Koto gave up on looking at her expression, gaze flicking to Juri. Her eyebrows were a little raised — something dramatic must have been happening on whatever show she was watching — and her lips were parted just so. Her hair was down, wisping all over her shoulders and curling into the hollow of her throat. Ruka's hair was down, too, as it usually was, draping over her cleavage as she leaned in for a closer look at the mirror.

They looked so soft and sweet, like pretty little desserts, girls did — touchable and delicious but probably terrible for you in the end. But she saw another side to these girls, a comforting side when they didn't necessarily have to think about being girls and they could just be. It was times like these when they looked sweetest.


	10. Happiness

They needed someone pretty enough and smart enough to understand the rules and do her job while still remaining a nice piece of eye candy. There was nothing in the requirements stating she had to love the job, nothing about savoring the fight and really really wanting to be a part of battles, but Koto felt it burning inside her. She needed this job like she needed air. She needed to be able to breathe again, to live again.

She would fight anyone tooth and nail if she had to, but that wasn't part of the job requirements, either.

The first thing they would do was interview you based on random scenarios — given the situation, what rules would or would not apply? Koto passed with flying colors. She had already determined that if she had to memorize a bunch of rules to get where she wanted, she'd do it. She would do it as many times as she had to. Thankfully, though, she only needed to do it once.

They had tried out two ref girls already before her, testing the waters to see which of their options had the most potential. They switched them out on a semi-regular basis, and when Koto finally got her turn to test out her prowess, she was a bundle of nerves and excitement all at once. The guys whose match she was reffing were of pretty typical D class demon stock, big and ugly. Knowing that made her relax a little — there probably wouldn't be any big surprises she'd have to accommodate for, and she could ease into what it was like to speak into a microphone in front of a crowd of crazy fans.

Not much crazier than her, though, she imagined.

"Are both fighters ready?" she asked, the silence between them her cue. "Begin!"

The other part of her job aside than understanding the rules enough to referee was to give a play-by-play for those listening and watching at home on the radio and TV. This was her trial match — she was nervous to screw it up, and so she dove into her commentary almost immediately.

"It seems Jiro's making the first move with a leap toward Yota," she blurted, then immediately felt silly. Was that the kind of thing she should say? Was that even necessary? Was it—

The first punch landed, and blood went flying, snapping her out of her stupor. "And Yota makes a quick right hook, throwing Jiro straight to the ground! Jiro's up and they're struggling for dominance with a flurry of fists — and he lands a nasty blow to Yota's ribs! I can hear the cracking from here, folks!"

She lost herself in the fight, the words tumbling out of her mouth, coming to her as easily as breathing.

"Sounds like Yota's have a tough time breathing — I think this one's all over!"

He fell, and she started her count all the way to the end.

"And the winner is Jiro!"

She was practically panting with excitement, her nervousness gone, completely amped for the next fight.

By the time all the fights that day were done, she was simply thrilled she hadn't been called out of the ring and replaced — she wasn't expecting one of the committee members to approach her while she sat in the lounge, sipping a celebratory daiquiri.

"Koto — you're on tomorrow. Our listeners and viewers practically tripled today when you got on the mic."

She practically choked on frozen slush. "I — I am? They did?"

"They did," he affirmed, grinning. "The people want to see more of you. So I say, let's give it to 'em."

Her face couldn't have possibly been redder. They wanted her out in the ring again. They wanted her — maybe — maybe they wanted her to be their _main girl_?

"O-of course! I'll be there!" she exclaimed, smiling so wide it practically hurt.

And that was only the beginning.


	11. Erased

"How long are you going to sit out here?"

She didn't know how long it had been already. She didn't really care. The misery was strong enough to drown out every other pain — the pain in her stomach from the lack of food, the pain in her head from lack of sleep.

"Koto, you can't keep doing this."

She wasn't doing anything but what she had to. She was just trying to find some way to rebuild herself from the inside out.

She could only stay inside listening to her siblings weep for so long. Eventually she left the house, wandering to her father's favorite perch, an old log that he had kept alive for a long time. Every day he'd put a little bit of his energy into it, reviving its core, practicing his "life magic" like all the demons of their breed were apt to do every now and then.

As she sat on it now, she could feel it rotting beneath her, darkening from the inside out without her father's own life breathing into it.

She didn't know if Taro had been standing there the whole time or if he had gone and come back, but he stepped in front of her, holding out the torn-off leg of a chicken. "I had to sneak this to you. Mom's telling us not to give you anything until you come back yourself, that you're being foolish. And … Well, I think you are too. She says people die all the time—"

"'People die all the time'?" she repeated incredulously, and Taro stared in shock at the first words she had spoken in days. "This isn't people, you idiot. This is _Dad_. He's gone. I'm glad you can all play and eat and go on with your lives but he — he actually _meant_ something to me!"

"Koto, he—"

"_I don't want to fucking hear it_!" she screeched, smacking the food out of her brother's hand and burying her face in her knees.

She heard the crunch of footsteps on leaves as they slowly faded away, then the wind through the trees. It was all she heard for quite some time as the last of the life bled away in that log beneath her until, finally, she could feel nothing left anymore.

She rose then, staring at the fly-encircled chicken leg and the increasingly maggot-infested piece of wood, and then she looked to the direction of her home.

It was time to move on. The last vestiges of what he had left behind of him were gone, and she had nothing more to stay for.


	12. Trust

Koto had gone often to explore the places outside their forest, places with more excitement and more people. There were villages and towns and other less-civilized places, places she had seen some of on adventures with her father, but nothing like she experienced now. She was meeting people, seeing new places — there was a whole world out there she wanted to explore, so much of it so far from where she was at now. She learned so much by simply listening, learning about things she had never seen and fights she had never witnessed. She haphazardly dove into conversations, practically begging for more. She would have stayed and listened forever if she could.

But after a couple days out on her own, she knew she needed to come home. It was bad enough to be gone so long without helping around the house, as her mother made apparent, and she knew her siblings would be missing her. Like the people she met were for her, Koto was a source of knowledge for the younger foxes about the outside world.

But the arrival was never pleasant.

"Where have you been going?"

"Nowhere, really."

It was a typical conversation between her and her mother — Mom's interrogation and Koto's rejection.

"It's not making my job any easier with you running around all the time. You're just like your dad, taking off wherever the wind blows you and letting the rest of us clean up after your messes."

It was typical for her mother to launch into one of her guilt trips, too. It was what she did best — find ways to make everyone around her feel miserable for not living up to her standards.

"What messes?" Koto snapped at her mother's accusation. "I take care of myself when I'm out."

"What about _us_, Koto? Do you ever think about that? What about your little sisters and your brothers?"

"When did _you_ ever care about _me_?" she shot back, turning away from her mother to pick up some of the trash littering the ground in the wake of her siblings. "Or Dad for that matter?"

"Don't bring him into this! It's not about him! Quit being a selfish brat and think about your family for once!"

Koto shot up, meeting her mother's gaze. "I do think about them! All the food I get, I bring for them! I learn stories and I tell them to them so they're not bored with your bitching as their only entertainment! The _only_ person I don't care about is _you_!"

Her mother stared in shock.

Koto was so tired of her acting oblivious, acting as if she were perfect. She was tired of her mother always dancing around the point, always changing the subject whenever he was brought into it. Koto never heard an explanation for her mother's actions, never a kind word — Koto's father was only a tool used to try to manipulate her whenever she wasn't "behaving" correctly.

"You abandoned us. Both of us. And you'd abandon them too, wouldn't you?" She gestured to her siblings who had stopped playing to gape at their sister and mother. "Because the only person that matters to you is _you_," she scoffed. "You and your fucking ideals! You don't even care about Taro — you just want him to live out your dreams since you're too damn weak to do _anything_ yourself!"

There was a moment in which she saw her mother trembling — then, without warning, Koto was on the ground, her mother on top of her, hitting and clawing. Koto attempted to shield herself, the startled outcries of her siblings and the enraged snarls of her mother the only things she was fully aware of until Taro was dragging her mother off.

"Mom, what are you—"

"Get out of here! _Get her out of here!_"

Koto ignored the pain and the blood and scrambled to her feet, shooting her mother one final glare.

"_You don't live here anymore! Do you hear me? Don't come back!_"

It was the last thing she heard her mother say before she left; it was a phrase that stuck in her mind since.

There was no home for her here. Not even Taro could help her, could defend her, could save her from that truth — there was no one left to trust.

She had herself, and she knew what she wanted her life to be. That was enough.


	13. Mom

She met him at the edge of the woods; he sat there by the creek almost every night, he told her, waiting for her to show. She told him to quit — sometimes she'd be gone for months, years even, but he didn't seem to care about the wait. He said he liked being alone sometimes, regardless of if she showed up. It was a habit that reminded her sorely of her father — perhaps Taro had picked up more from him than she thought.

"Mom died," was all he said this time when she approached this time.

It was two words she hadn't expected to hear. Their mother was only seven hundred at the most. She still had several thousand years on her, Koto thought — she hadn't even reached the thousand-year mark yet, unlike their father.

"Died?" she repeated in disbelief.

"She was poisoned by some plant. But I don't know how. She knew that thing was dangerous."

Koto could hear the doubt in his words, and a sickness slowly filled her. "You mean she … Pur—"

"Don't," he cut her off, shaking his head. "Just don't say that."

She grew quiet, staring down at the running creek as the entire thing sunk in.

She hadn't felt so little when her father died. Should she be mad at herself for that? Should she care more?

"Will you come home?" he asked suddenly, staring at her.

She glanced away, uncomfortable. "Taro …" she tried. "Maybe for a while."

"Why don't you stay now?"

"It's … it's just not my home anymore."

They both fell silent again until he finally stood. "Come on. Everyone misses you."

"All right," she conceded softly, trailing after him into the forest.


	14. Turning Point

Koto found him in a bar far away from her home — as far as she had been so far — and she could practically smell the drama that surrounded him. _Arata_. He was famous, she could hear murmured excitedly amongst the girls she was waitressing, a popular fighter in the area. She had heard of him already, of course, because Koto never missed a single thing about fighters or fights. On top of that, she couldn't resist a fighter — especially not a popular one — and so she made it a point to get as close as possible, elbowing her way through the crowd that surrounded him with the best drink she had in tow.

"Hi there," she said, leaning to his ear to get the message over the dull roar around them while she set the glass down.

His eyes slid up her figure. "Hello," he purred, and she grinned, nudging him with her hip.

He took her with him, the two of them sharing a night of rough sex and a morning of discussion. She impressed him with her knowledge of well-known fighters and fights — some even his own.

"You mean you haven't met any other girls that know this stuff?"

He shrugged. "Not really — they might know a couple things, but it's the famous part that really factors in. A lot of them take off in the morning, or just get clingy. I appreciate the latter less."

"I'd agree," Koto laughed. She knew exactly what this was — a brief affair, a bit of fun and some conversation with a good fighter. But the more they talked, the more she found herself wanting to stick around a little longer.

But she didn't have to wish — they were preparing to part ways when he suddenly asked her, "Hey, you wanna come with me for a while? You could see one of my fights in person."

She blinked at him, slightly surprised. "Well, yeah!" It was an opportunity not just to see more fights, but to see more of the world, something that Koto was itching to experience.

The two of them traveled around for a while, Koto meeting new fighters and even occasionally setting up fights for him. It was great entertainment for demons aside from being a useful skill, and there was no lack of spectators every time a popular fighter struck it up with someone else. It was demon world's unofficial version of tournaments: traveling fighters, busting each other up for fun, gaining new fans wherever they went.

New girls for him came and went, but Koto stayed — not just as another fling herself, but what could possibly be considered a friend. They had an understanding, it seemed, not to take anything between them too seriously; it was a mutually beneficial relationship and nothing more.

It was through him that she ran into a group of demons advertising a fighting tournament in the human world, inviting demons of all kinds to come participate. Arata, of course, was one of those invited.

"They're hiring referee girls, too," one of them said to her with a wink. "I bet you'd get hired in a snap."

"Referee girls?"

"Yeah, sure. They announce the fights, keep track of stuff."

Announcing a fight … It sounded like her dream job.

"Wow, damn, where do I sign up?" she asked.

* * *

><p>"So you're going to the human world, huh?"<p>

"That's the plan," she replied, then grinned wickedly. "Why? You gonna miss me?"

Arata snorted. "Of course I'll miss my favorite fan."

"Why don't you just come fight in the tournament? It should be fun."

"Eh …" He shrugged. "I don't have much interest in the human world. I might come check it out sometime, though."

"You better. I'll need you to be _my_ fan when I become a famous referee girl," she joked, laughing. "But, yeah. I'm leaving in a couple days."

"Good luck," he said, his tone a little more serious than she was used to.

"I'll be fine." She leaned over, pressing a little kiss against his cheek. "Nothing in the human world I couldn't handle, right?"


	15. Technology

It took time to adjust to the variety of electronics in the human world. Sure, they had some similar things in the Makai, but a great deal of other things were completely new to Koto. She was adapting to telephones when computers came out, and then there was the infamous internet, but she didn't spend too much time with that unless she found that it was useful for something. She was usually too busy with her own things to check into it often, but with every passing year, it became more interesting.

Cameras certainly had to be her favorite invention — video cameras, regular cameras, it didn't matter — they were there recording fights and recording her and making her famous for what she loved to do. A lot of videos ended up on the internet, too, and after a while she was able to find even her own interview clips.

After several decades spent in the human world, she considered herself pro enough with the technology — enough to understand it and use it, which was probably more than many of her kind. There was something simple and familiar about the ways that demons lived, though. Sometimes, deep down, she felt it made more sense to her than human life, and it was often a thought she escaped to when she felt her world growing hectic; the peace of the wilderness, the pleasure of hunting out one's own food. It was a struggle to survive in much different ways than in this world.

Sometimes she missed it, but … Sometimes she never wanted to go back.


	16. Temperature

Koto spent quite a bit of time unwinding in the cocktail lounge after the tournament fights — there was nothing like a little booze and conversation to top off a good day, or at least prevent it from going downhill. She couldn't stand to hole herself up. It gave too much opportunity for thought and regret and that was just something she didn't like dealing with for too many hours in the day. Socializing was something that came more naturally to her, and, well, alcohol just happened to be great at helping out.

She usually only talked to the guys, but she occasionally held up short chats with the waitresses. Many of them were dressed to impress, sleek and sexual and over-confident. You practically had to be to make it anywhere around here, surrounded by the super-rich and bloodthirsty. But Koto had noticed a new waitress flitting around earlier, one who didn't look quite as confident as some of the others. It was understandable for being new. The other girls were probably giving her a hard time, too — girls in competition for favoritism around a bunch of rich men could be catty. She looked sweet, though, and Koto felt a little sympathetic, so the next time the young apparition ducked behind the bar to request a bottle of the next fancy liquor she'd be serving, Koto looked at her and said, "It's cold in here, how do you get by wearing that thing?"

The girl looked at her, slightly startled at being addressed by someone other than a man or another server. "O-oh, this? I guess I'm just used to cold places. It's a bit colder where I come from."

Koto smiled. "Maybe I'm just getting used to this island climate. It wasn't too warm where I came from, either."

She thought maybe a bit of conversation would help the girl relax, and to Koto's pleasure, she did smile back. "Really? Maybe I'll start shivering more the longer I stay here, huh?"

"Let's hope not, because I don't think they'll change the uniform policy anytime soon." The two of them shared a laugh just as the bartender came to hand the waitress her bottle. "Hey, I'm Koto, by the way."

"Oh, I know," the girl responded with a wink as she began to walk off. "I'm Juri!"

As she watched her hurry off to a set of couches on the other side of the lounge, Koto decided Juri seemed like a nice girl.


	17. Luck

She was on the way to check up on Juri — she had only been referee for a short time, and Koto wanted to make sure she was doing all right and spend a little time with her before they'd have to get to work again. It was nice to just relax and chat and reassure Juri that she was doing well. The two girls felt effectively alone when it came to companionship, especially lately with all these even tougher fighters running around that the two were slightly intimidated to run into. Aside from that, Koto was still sore about being moved to the stands after being accused of messing up her count, and she could do to forget about all that for a while.

Koto had learned to be somewhat discreet when getting around, either by going around at hours when not many were about or by traveling in a group with others heading from the lounge to their rooms. Tonight, though, everyone seemed to want to stay in later than usual, and Koto couldn't keep Juri waiting much longer. But she hadn't run into any trouble so far… she'd probably be fine going by herself.

She held a bottle of liquor in one hand as she walked through the halls; Juri hadn't wanted to come to the lounge because of the other girls there, so Koto would bring a piece of the lounge to her. Koto wasn't afraid of the glares and comments she got from the jealous waitresses for her favoring Juri and helping her with the promotion. The bitchiness of other girls was something she could handle, and she didn't let it get to her. She chose Juri for a reason, and that was all that mattered. Juri would be okay with it all soon, Koto was sure — she just needed time to adjust.

A good screwdriver sounded nice. Would Juri have orange juice in her room? She had forgotten to look last time, since they had just sat around drinking hard lemonade anyway—

Someone was moving in the hall up ahead of her, and Koto paused, waiting to make out the figure. It was the fluffy red hair that gave him away, and something caught in Koto's throat. She had just counted him out the other day in the fight against Yusuke, and she had more than once run into a sore loser who felt like blaming the referee for their own loss. Maybe he'd be even more angry after the committee said she had messed up the count on his fight.

There was a split second when she saw the recognition flash on his face, and then she ducked around the corner of another hallway, her heart flying in her chest. She hardly realized she was running until she smacked into something, the bottle of vodka flying out of her hand and landing with a terrible crash somewhere ahead of her.

She blinked the panic away, realizing now that what she had run into wasn't a something, it was a someone — someone much, much bigger than she was, in fact.

_Out of the frying pan and into the oven. You have the worst luck lately._

The tall demon snatched her by the shirt, lifting her into the air until they were face level — close enough that she could smell the rotting meat on his breath. She clung to his arm, her feet swaying, searching for solid ground—

"Why do they put a scrawny bitch in charge of matches when she can't even watch where she's going?"

"That's a very good question," she forced out, squirming. "Maybe that would be better answered by the, uh, tournament committee?"

He frowned, and she could make out the fangs peeking out of the lower corners of his mouth. "A wise-ass, too?" He shook her, then stopped suddenly, leaving her to gasp for air in the silence.

"What are you lookin' at?"

She was just about to stutter out, "Nothing! I don't know what you're talking about!" But when she looked at the demon that had hold of her, she realized he wasn't staring at her, but something beyond her.

_"Ya must think yer pretty tough pickin' on a lass, much less one that ain't even a fighter."_

The voice was practically unmistakable, but she couldn't turn her head far enough to see — instead, she saw the annoyance deepening on her assaulter's face. "I don't see how it's your business."

_"I can make it my business real quick once I put my fist in yer face. Put her down, I'm tellin' you."_

Koto's feet found the ground suddenly, and she stumbled into the wall and braced herself against it. The taller demon stalked off with a grumble, leaving her to mull over the broken remains of her bottle of vodka, the sore spots in her armpits where her shirt had bruised her from being held in the air, and her present savior.

Jin.

It was ironic, she thought, how she had run from him, thinking he was the dangerous one, and then he ended up being the one that saved her. That probably left something to be desired when it came to her judge of character, after all.

"Ya alright?"

She nodded, pushing herself off the wall. "I don't think my booze is gonna make it, though," she joked, laughing at a little. "Thanks, though. Sorry I, uh, ran from you a minute ago."

"Whadja do that fer, anyway? 'M not that scary, am I?" He grinned, the picture of innocence.

"I might agree if I hadn't seen you fight." He looked a little startled, and she blushed immediately. "Oh, I didn't mean that to sound rude. It's just… I can never tell if someone's holding a grudge against me for losing a fight."

"What? No, not me. I lost fair and square against Urameshi, I did. Ain't got no reason to blame you fer doin' yer job." He shrugged. "It's a feller like that guy tryin' ta rough you up that needs somethin' ta beat up on when all he got's bein' a loser, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah, probably." She glanced down the hall and back to the broken glass. With no liquor, she'd have to run back to the lounge and get more, and then risk running through the halls alone again. She wasn't ready to have her life threatened twice in one night, but she did still want some company.

He looked away, too, like he was unsure how to end their conversation, but she said, "Hey — do you have someplace to be?"

He chuckled. "'Course not, not at this hour. I jus' got a little lost in all these dang hallways lookin' fer the door outside."

"I can show you the way," she offered.

Maybe she didn't have such terrible luck lately, after all.


	18. Relatives

Despite six siblings, Koto's family was small compared to some demons' — she knew nothing of her parents' family, only the small, secluded world that they occupied deep in the forest until the days came when her father would take her exploring with him.

Now, that family was more distant than she liked to think at times. Perhaps she was afraid to face them, to find out that her growing siblings disapproved of her wandering ways just as much as their mother had. They were a tight-knit family, and Koto had been removed from that long ago.

Perhaps it was that loss that their mother regretted most. Maybe that was why she had—

The truth was that Koto didn't understand much about her mother. She had never been close enough to know her well. All she knew was what her father had once said: "Your mother is soft. She is weak. That's why I love her." Koto could never understand the value in such a thing. That weakness was why she had always hated her mother. It was a thing many demons despised, because strength was critical to survival. Her mother was quiet most of the time, but her displays of emotion that Koto glimpsed were usually more than she could comprehend, with more dramatics and weeping than she had ever seen.

The strongest she had ever seen her mother was when Koto herself had fallen apart for the first time. Why then? Why? She had asked herself a thousand times and never understood. That was what had made her the angriest.

Koto didn't know what would have driven her mother to much of the things she did, or why she preferred such a secluded life. She wondered sometimes if Taro knew, if perhaps their mother shared things with the son she was close to, but Koto never wanted to ask.

She wondered, too, if he still sat out at night waiting for her, but the guilt was not enough to overpower the fear and send her back.

She bought and sent things home frequently; though she didn't tell anyone, much of her clothes shopping was done for her sisters. Four girls was a lot to accommodate, and Koto didn't feel that a single girl having a better wardrobe than four was fair. Did they like her gifts? It didn't matter. The guilt, this time, was more than enough to keep her at it.

Koto hated to think that she was lonely, but despite all her traveling, she had always wanted to keep that connection with family. Quiet nature with family was her safe place, the place she had grown to know in her younger years as home, the place she dwelled on when she needed peace. Her life now had somehow become a torrent of excitement and life and little else. Fans were wonderful — fans helped fill the void — but they were not friends.

They certainly were not family.

Lately she had thought on family again, but not because of her own. It was because she saw family in the people around her — not for herself, but for each other. She saw it in the way they joked and smiled, the way they argued, the way they fought — but she recognized it most clearly when she spoke to Jin.

"A team is a back ta fight," he said to her once. That conversation had impacted her more deeply than he could know with something as simple as the joy he felt when he spoke of the bonds with his friends. His team.

They were his family now. She could sense that just as anyone with a brain could.

She sensed now that she wanted something to lean on when nothing could help her, to give her the strength to face the world again.

_"Koto?"_

There was only one person in the world that had been there for her in that way, someone who had never had the chance to before because Koto had always kept things together and hidden, someone who Koto had reached out to when she had no one else.

_"What's the matter, Koto?"_

She could picture the concern in her brilliant violet eyes as clearly as day, and few things had clenched her heart as much as knowing that she had someone she could call her best friend.

She had her sister away from sisters, her back to fight against, and she had never truly seen it until the moment came when she was hurting and that girl was the only one to pull her out of the wreckage.

She had her Juri.


	19. Dress

She had been asked on several occasions about her choice of dress, and many of her hardcore fans already knew the answer. It was simple, really; the tournament committee had a particular taste for what their referee girls wore, namely that they wore three colors — red, pink, and black — and that they wear a bow choker. It was distinctive dress that characterized them but still gave them a degree of individuality.

Koto in particular liked pink the least of the choices, but when she spotted the shorts, she decided she was okay with it. They were cute, and the color worked to balance out the black of her tights. By the time she had grown used to them, she decided she liked pink, after all, and even after the Dark Tournament was over, her outfit was a signature — something that everyone could recognize her by. And what's there to not like about that?


	20. Statues

"Hey, Koto! Tell Ruka you guys can meet me at the gift shop when you're done, okay? Try not to take too long. I want to go get some smoothies before we head back to the hotel."

"Sure thing," she mumbled back, watching as Juri scurried down the hall.

Ruka appeared to like art more than either Juri or Koto did. It was a little unexpected, but Koto guessed it had something to do with her makeup fascination. That was artsy, right? Well, everyone had their quirks. But the thing was, Ruka liked inspecting the pieces and commenting on them, and Juri was even more impatient than Koto was with it. She wanted to browse, move on, and do something a little more interesting. Koto couldn't blame her. She wasn't a huge art fan, either.

Koto turned to face Ruka again, but now she was heading away from her, too — and in an apparent hurry. Koto sped her own pace and tried getting her attention, finally spewing out the message when she caught up: "Hey, Juri wants us to hurry up so we can get sm— What in the hell?"

Only now did Koto realize what Ruka had stopped in front of, and it startled her so much that she stared, mouth gaping. Before them was a group of statues of pairs of men and women in various sexual positions.

"Now that's what I call sculpting," Ruka purred, and before Koto knew it, she was laughing incredulously, then the two of them stood in silence for at least a minute.

"Okay, enough ogling the boobs."

"What makes you think I was looking at the boobs?" Ruka shot back, somewhat offended. "I'll have you know I was—"

"You were looking at _all_ of it, I can tell. … I was, too."

"Too bad Juri missed the best exhibit."

"Holy shit, Ruka, you're such a nympho."


	21. Desk

Her desk was typically a mess — pages with dates scattered in various loose piles, her slender pink laptop resting on the left edge which she only popped open to check various things and run off again. She was too scattered to organize just ultimately trivial things; there were much more interesting things out with everyone and everything she was interested in. She'd get around to going through them later… when she needed to find something, anyway.


	22. Recipe

"Now, look, Koto," the gentle voice said, attempting to steer her daughter's attention back to the task at hand.

The small girl at her side huffed, peering over the counter as her mother broke the dough in her hands. "Why can't we cook the chicken? Huh?" she pestered at the lack of response.

"Because that's simple. You already know how to do that. Baking is new."

"Baking's boring."

Her mother sighed. "Here, knead this dough," she conceded, relinquishing a handful of dough.

The little fox's eyes widened as she smushed and stretched the blob between her hands. "Why's it like that?"

"That's just the way it is. That way, we can shape to whatever we want, and then when it bakes, it'll be solid."

"Like bread?"

"Yes. And biscuits and muffins and cobbler, too."

"What are we making?"

"You'll see when we're done."

Koto grinned. She was never annoyed about surprises.

"Okay, let me see it." Koto handed the dough off to her mother, who broke the rest of the dough into pieces and flattened them on the pan. "Now come here and press your thumb right in the middle like this."

"In the middle?"

"Mm-hm."

—.—

Koto snatched the golden cookies out of the oven, plopping them onto a plate by means of spatula and resting them to cool on the counter just long enough to pour a dollop of honey in the center, Juri hovering over her shoulder with every step.

Koto smiled, offering her one of the finished morsels.

"I don't know how you do it," Juri muttered through a mouthful. "They're amazing."

She shrugged. "Practice."


	23. Travel

Travel in the human world was not like her own. Many places had such a wide expanse and diverse methods of travel — running, carriages, mounts. Koto had never known a car or a plane in the Makai; generally, her own feet had carried her wherever she needed to go. More often than not, she would become a fox again, darting through the wilderness with ease and passing by the taller of demons with a certain discreetness that her nimble form allowed her.

But humans were not like demons. They weren't swift, and travel on foot took a long time. Almost every venture required a vehicle, and Koto had no way to bypass such norms. It would attract too much attention to travel in any way she was used to, but that was fine, and she could adjust. She enjoyed planes far more than cars; they sated much of her curiosity about being in the air, as nervous as they made her feel sometimes, but by the time Jin came along to take her soaring in the sky, she knew that planes were obsolete compared to the real thing.

Still, she sometimes missed the freedom of running place to place. There would be days that she, on occasion, would steal away before the rest of the world woke to abandon everything so she could run wild in the forest of Genkai's property, relishing the feel of the wind in her fur and the scents that reminded her of home.


	24. Height

"I don't like it up here."

"Shh. I think I see him!"

Taro was stock-still, clutching the wood so tightly his knuckles were white, while Koto squirmed with excitement on the limb above him. This was all her idea, and he wasn't happy about going along with it, but when she got that look in her eyes, it was hard to say no. She always said he didn't get out and do things enough, and maybe she was right. She certainly had a way of making him feel guilty.

But he hadn't expected this idea to take him twenty feet off the ground in a huge magnolia tree, and now that he saw how far the ground was from where he was, he was starting to have second thoughts.

She had said they were going to hide and play a trick on their father when he came back later. He was always playing tricks on them, and they had to get him back. Taro didn't like tricks. He never saw what was so fun about them. Koto was convinced that she was going to show him they could be fun, but this certainly had yet to be very fun.

Koto was leaning down on her limb. "Here he comes," she whispered, growing still. "Ready?"

He nodded, swallowing the lump of fear in his throat.

"Now!" she hissed, and he could feel her energy at work. He joined it with his, and a root at their father's feet lifted, causing him to stumble before he righted himself and started laughing.

Taro was laughing, too. "We did it, Koto!" He looked up at her just in time to see her eyes rolling back in her head and her tiny body slipping from the limb.

It was a split second too late.

She hit some smaller limbs on the way down, waking her just enough to scream before her inevitable drop to unforgiving ground.

Fox kit keening filled his ears.

* * *

><p>"What were you doing that high up?" their mother shrieked. His ears were pinned back, attempting to block out the panicked, furious cries and Koto's pained wails.<p>

"I don't know," he managed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Their father was already tending to Koto's injuries with every plant they had available. She would be fine, he said. It was just an accident. But that didn't make their mother any less upset, or Taro's guilty feelings any less prominent.

It was while before either of them climbed any trees again, but he never again saw Koto climbing more than two limbs high, just as she never again used her energy while in the trees. He was content with that.


End file.
